


(oh, for you) i would never sink again

by Nearly



Series: hurt/comfort bingo [3]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drowning, Gen, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25093414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nearly/pseuds/Nearly
Summary: Eddie doesn’t particularly relish the idea of getting out in the rain, but he knows what Buck is probably thinking—this much rain is likely to cause the river to swell, and it’s dangerous. Whoever is out there might need some help. Or at the very least, someone to tell them how idiotic it is to be out in this storm.
Relationships: Evan “Buck” Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: hurt/comfort bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817455
Comments: 19
Kudos: 160





	(oh, for you) i would never sink again

**Author's Note:**

> I'll preface this by saying I know nothing about the LA river, or LA, or how drowning works? but it's fine
> 
> title, as usual, from a Noah Kahan song :)

It’s the end of a late shift, there’s a steady rain drumming down on the roof of Eddie’s truck, and the windshield wipers are working overtime. Buck’s humming along quietly to some catchy pop song, tapping his fingers against his knee in time with the beat. Normally, Eddie wouldn’t have enjoyed a drive home in a storm, but it’s better when he’s not alone—tonight, he’s got his best friend in the passenger seat and the radio on low. The truck is warm. It’s nice.

The drive isn’t long, but Buck had insisted on sleeping at his own apartment for once, so Eddie is taking the long way home to drop him off. Buck hasn’t spoken since they left the station, but given how draining their shift had been, Eddie’s not surprised. They’re left sitting in a comfortable almost-silence, letting the rain and the music wash over them. 

Until, as Eddie goes to make a turn, Buck suddenly straightens in his seat. His tapping stops and he peers out the window, like he’s trying to make out something through the storm. Eddie frowns, shooting him a glance. 

“Buck?” he prompts, confused by Buck’s sudden focus. 

“Pull over,” Buck says. 

“What? Why?” 

“Pull over!” Buck repeats sharply. Eddie obediently slows, startled by the force in Buck’s tone, and pulls the truck to a stop next to the curb.

“What the hell, man?” he questions. He turns to fix Buck with a glare, but the other man isn’t looking at him. 

“I think there’s someone down by the river,” Buck explains, already unbuckling and making to open the door. 

“In this weather?” Eddie says. He doesn’t particularly relish the idea of getting out in the rain, but he knows what Buck is probably thinking—this much rain is likely to cause the river to swell, and it’s dangerous. Whoever is out there might need some help. Or at the very least, someone to tell them how idiotic it is to be out in this storm. 

Buck hops out before Eddie even manages to cut the engine. Eddie mutters a curse and follows. They’re both drenched in seconds, but neither of them turns to go back to the truck. Even if he’s wet and miserable, Eddie knows he could never leave another person out here if they might need his help. 

“Hey!” Buck calls as they near the river’s concrete banks, voice loud enough to cut through the thrum of the rain. “Hey! Are you alright? You shouldn’t be out here!”

Eddie holds up a hand to shield his eyes, squinting into the dark. He can make out, just barely, the figure that Buck must’ve seen. As they draw closer, the familiar thrill of adrenaline courses over him like a wave—because out there, clinging desperately to the wet, slanting concrete, is a  _ kid.  _ Can’t be a day over fifteen, if Eddie’s guessing right, and he looks scared. 

He must call something back because Eddie can see his mouth moving, but it gets lost to the storm. 

“Eddie,” Buck says, eyes wide as he glances over, “we’ve gotta get down there, if he slips—”

Buck doesn’t have to finish the sentence. Eddie can see what he means. The water is running in rivulets down the banks, and the river swells higher every second; if the kid goes in, they might not get him out. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, “yeah, just be careful.” 

They tap knuckles the way they always do before a call, and then Buck starts inching downwards. Eddie follows, arms splayed to keep his balance. The incline isn’t steep, but it’s slippery with the water, and the angle makes it hard to stay upright. No wonder the kid was having trouble. 

Buck reaches the kid first. He shuffles down until he’s at his side, hands out in a placating manner. The kid has barely shifted since they arrived, and he’s shivering. From fear or from cold, Eddie can’t tell. The rain is freezing. 

“We’re firefighters with the LAFD,” Buck is explaining, when Eddie makes it down the rest of the way. “We’ll help you get back up safe and sound, okay? You’re gonna be fine.” 

The kid nods, but his eyes are wide with panic. Eddie can't help but notice that he's looking resolutely anywhere but at the water that's rushing below him, steadily climbing. 

"What's your name?" Eddie asks, edging down a little farther. 

"Andrew," the kid responds. After a moment's hesitation, he adds, "I– I can't swim." 

Eddie's gaze flicks to Buck's, just briefly, dread pooling in his stomach. A part of him wants to know what the hell this kid thought he was doing, going anywhere near the river by himself if he can't swim—another part knows that the reasoning doesn't matter. What matters is that Eddie gets him home safe.

"Okay," he says, "Here's what we're gonna do, Andrew. I’ll take your hand, and my friend here, Buck, he's going to get behind you, alright?" 

Eddie catches Buck's nod out of the corner of his eye, and sees him shuffle into position. 

"I know you're scared, but he'll make sure you don't go anywhere near the water. Okay?" Eddie smiles, hoping that it comes across as reassuring. Andrew blows out a breath, fingers still tight against the concrete. 

"Okay," he says. It's quiet enough that Eddie can barely hear him past the roar of the storm, still raging around them, but he catches it. 

"Come on, then," Eddie says, stretching out a hand. He braces himself against the canal wall with the other, making sure he doesn't tilt forwards with Andrew's added weight and send them both into the river. 

It takes them a moment of coaxing and gentle reassurance, but they eventually manage to convince Andrew to let go and reach for Eddie’s hand. Slowly, slowly, they start back up the slope, moving carefully. 

They're barely a foot from the top of the bank when everything goes sideways. Andrew's foot slides on the slick stone, right out from under him. Eddie tightens his grip immediately so the kid's hand won't slip from his, and he latches on to the upper lip of the concrete basin with his other hand, barely managing to keep his own footing. 

Andrew scrambles to catch himself and kicks out in desperation, one foot managing to hit Buck in the jaw, where he's still poised below. Eddie watches—almost as if it's in slow-motion—as Buck loses his balance, stumbles, and goes down hard. He yelps when his head clips the concrete, and then he’s sliding, clearly disoriented.

“Buck!” Eddie cries in surprise, and then he’s moving faster than he thought he could; he yanks Andrew upwards, pulling both of them back to their feet and over the edge onto flat ground. 

“Call 9-1-1,” he instructs, shoving his phone into the kid’s hand. Just in case. 

He whips back around, reaching for Buck before he’s even halfway down the slope. He’d hit his head, but otherwise isn’t hurt, and if Eddie can get to him before he hits the water—

But he’s too late. In the split second that Eddie had his back turned to take care of the kid, Buck had tumbled farther, unable to get a grip on the wet rock. Eddie’s hand brushes his, just barely, before the water catches him and drags him the rest of the way down. 

Eddie dives in after him without a second thought. Buck is normally a strong swimmer, but the water is high and moving fast, and on top of that he’s got a head wound. There’s no way this ends well for him. 

The force of the current takes him by surprise, threatening to take him under too. It’s dark and it’s pouring and he can barely see a thing but he clings to the canal wall long enough to spot Buck, a ways down, coming up spluttering. He’s clearly trying to swim, but he can’t quite get his limbs to cooperate, and he keeps dipping back under.

Eddie pushes off and swims for him, fighting the current. It batters him, hard and fast, and he hasn’t seen Buck pop up again. 

He pushes further forward, sweeping through the water for something,  _ anything.  _ Panic tugs at his heart, climbs into his throat, nearly enough to choke him, and then—his hand knocks into what feels like an arm, and he latches on before the river can tug them apart again. He drags upwards with all the strength he still has, until Buck breaks the surface. 

His head lolls, and he stays limp in Eddie’s hold. It takes Eddie a moment longer than it should to realize he’s not breathing. 

He’s not—he’s  _ not breathing.  _ Eddie blanks. His body moves on autopilot, struggling against the pull of the water to get both of them to shore. He doesn’t know how far down they’ve been swept by now, how far they are from the truck or from Andrew, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters, the only thing that’s ever mattered, is saving Buck. 

Eddie’s hand meets concrete again, and he scrabbles for a moment before he gets a grip. He scrapes his palms open on the stone but he manages, somehow, to drag both himself and Buck up out of the river onto the slope. He doesn’t waste any time trying to get to flat ground, not when Buck is turning bluer by the second. Eddie flips him onto his back and starts compressions, bracing himself against the awkward angle. 

“Come on, Buck, come on,” Eddie whispers, barely able to hear himself over the rain and his own breathing. 

Buck’s forehead is bleeding. If—no.  _ When  _ he wakes, Eddie knows it’ll drip into his eyes. He wants to reach up, wipe it away, but he doesn’t dare stop what he’s doing. He can’t stop, not until Buck starts breathing again, not until he opens those gorgeous blue eyes and shows Eddie that he’s okay. He can’t go out like this. Eddie won’t let him. 

“C’mon, you massive idiot,” Eddie hisses, frustrated nearly to tears,  _ “Breathe!” _

He slams his palms into Buck’s chest again, harder, feels a rib give way under with the force of it. And then suddenly, miraculously, Buck breathes. He jerks and coughs, trying to expel whatever disgusting river water is lodged in his lungs. What feels like an eternity later, Buck flops onto his back again, exhausted but breathing. He’s breathing. That’s all that matters. 

“...Eddie,” Buck rasps, his eyes fluttering open. They’re glassy and unfocused, and he’s having a hard time tracking, but Eddie has never been happier to see them in his life. He heaves a sigh of relief—though it comes out sounding more like a half-aborted sob—and finally reaches up to swipe away the drop of blood leaking into Buck’s eyebrow. 

“You’re okay,” he says, and he can’t help it. He leans forward, fully aware that he’s crying now, and rests his forehead against Buck’s. “You’re okay.”

They’re still sprawled out awkwardly at an angle, half on top of each other, breathing hard. Buck’s hand, trembling and cold, finds his and squeezes lightly. Sirens wail in the distance. 

Buck agrees, voice rough and quiet, “I’m okay.” 

**Author's Note:**

> drop me a comment?? please I thrive on validation 
> 
> (also come talk to me on tumblr)


End file.
